


Day 29: Glasses - Crystal Clear

by 221b_hound



Series: Techienician: Botanical Love [30]
Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 30 Days of Techienician, Glasses, M/M, Surgery, Techienician
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/pseuds/221b_hound
Summary: When Matt breaks both his pairs of glasses,  he finally has to confront his worsening eyesight - and a surgical solution. It makes him nervous, but perhaps he can lead by example for Techie, who's terrified of the potential surgery to make his mechs compatible with his body. But Matt's eye surgery has benefits he never even realised were possible.





	

Matt is having a bad day: he has a headache again, and he’s squinting through his glasses and that’s not helping one damn bit. Making it worse, if anything.

So he takes off his glasses and puts them on the workbench so he can rub his eyes with thumb and forefinger, as though a little massage will do anything other than bring weird little spots into his field of vision. He takes his hand away and, yep, now everything’s blurry _and_ he’s got flashing spots in front of his eyes. Terrific.

And that’s when, in groping for his glasses again, Matt knocks them to the floor just as a colleague is pushing a grav-trolley past and his glasses get run over. The weak anti-grav field, transferring gravitational weight from the trolley to the reinforced deck, transfers that weight right onto lenses and frame, and Matt’s spectacles break with a sharp _snick_.

Given this very same accident also happened last week, and he hasn’t had a replacement pair made yet, he’s now effectively blind past his nose.

Instead of raging and kicking things, like he might have done a few years ago, Matt sighs and stays where he is, so that he doesn’t become a danger to traffic by stumbling around half blind.

“Leslee,” he calls, calm but loudly enough to project to the back of the workroom.

 “Aw, hell, Matt. Another pair?”

“Yeah. Can you call Techie for me?”

Leslee calls Techie, who is released from his own work area so he can escort Matt to the medbay.

That’s when the optician checks Matt’s eyes and tells him what Matt has suspected for at least a year now. His eyesight is getting worse. He should have had new, stronger glasses ages ago. No wonder he’s had so many headaches.

“Of course,” says the optician, “There’s the surgical option.”

By his side, Techie stiffens in anxious disapproval.

“What surgical option?” Matt asks because, yes, he is stubborn, and in the last nanosecond he has an inkling of something else he might be stubborn about.

The optician describes the apparently routine operation to replace Matt’s deteriorating corneas with vat-grown replacements, laced with his own DNA to eradicate the complications of tissue rejection, but modified so that the deterioration won’t set in again. In short, a simple operation that Matt should have had years ago can give him 20/20 vision for the rest of his life.

The thing is, Matt knows that the optician has offered a surgical option to Techie, too – a procedure to create a new casing for Techie’s mech-eyes, crafted from Techie’s own DNA, so that the incompatibility between the mechs and Techie’s skin won’t continue. But he’ll have to be under anaesthetic, and his eyes will have to come out of his head to be treated with the organic casing.

Techie, of course, is terrified of such a thing, and there is no way in this wide and wonderful universe that Matt’s ever going to insist or push or force Techie into that decision.

But he can lead by example. He can let Dr Vashtakh do surgery on _his_ eyes, as a demonstration of trust and courage. To show Techie that it’s okay. That it can be done. That Matt would never ask Techie to undergo a single thing that he isn’t prepared to do first.

Techie wants to protest, but doesn’t. Matt just keeps telling him, “It’s okay baby. He’s a good doctor. You don’t think the General would let a doctor who wasn’t good on her ship, do you? It’s fine. It’s okay, baby.”

Two days later, Matt gets his first surgery, on his left eye. By the afternoon, the bandage is off and Matt can see the world clearly without his glasses for the first time in seventeen years. He spends most of the next two days of his sick leave gazing at Techie, first with his blurry right eye, then with his clear left. He runs his fingers over Techie’s beloved brows and cheekbones, his jaw, his nose, his ears.

“You’re so beautiful,” he keeps saying. “I can see you so much better.” He presses Techie’s red hair to his eyelids. He flutters his eyelashes against Techie’s cheek and says, “You have freckles. I can see little freckles on your nose, Mus. My freckly mouse.”  He’s seen them before of course, especially the ones he grew like a dotty garden on his adorable nose while they were on Corellia, but only through his glasses.

On the third day of leave, Dr Vashtakh operates on Matt’s right eye, and once the bandage is off, Matt spends an afternoon examining Techie from head to toe, exploring every follicle and freckle and bump with his unassisted eyes. Matt gives Techie’s freckles names, like constellations. His kisses star trails between them.

Every time Techie looks at Matt, Matt is looking at him, his brown eyes wide and intense and _seeing_.

Matt’s glasses were never a barrier to looking his fill of his boy, but without the weight of the frames on his nose and ears, Matt feels somehow that he’s getting more of Techie, more directly.

“My Mus,” Matt murmurs in bed, no longer seeing only a lovely blur of his lovely man. He can shove his face in moist and ticklish places and lick and nibble and _see_ without his glasses being fogged or smeared. He delights in fluttering his eyelashes against Techie’s cock and the sensitive skin of his thighs, and even between the cheeks of his bum – making Techie giggle, and hard – before kissing and licking everywhere too.

Techie, one night, takes Matt’s face in his hands and looks, looks, _looks_ at Matt’s unshielded eyes, with adoration that’s almost detectable on radar. Surely that much love is giving off some kind of energy field, Matt thinks.

“I know why you did it,” says Techie.

“So I can see you perfectly all the time,” says Matt, then adds, more practically, “And so I don’t get headaches anymore.”

“That too,” says Techie. Because he really does know why.

He knows that Matt was scared before the operation. He knows that Matt had to be brave to let someone muck about with his eyes. He knows that Matt understands how frightened Techie is to let anyone else ever do that again.

He knows that Matt loves him and would never push him and has never even asked or suggested that Techie has the operation that will give his sore eyes relief.

And because Matt did it first, and showed it could be done; because Matt didn’t pretend it wasn’t frightening, but showed that the fear was not related to the reality; because Matt never pushed; because Matt will do anything, anything at all, to help his Mus, well… well, then.

Then Mus holds Matt’s hand tight and says, “Come with me to Dr Vashtakh tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“I might not. I don’t know.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“I just want to ask about it.”

“Okay.”

“But I might not.”

“Okay.”

“You won’t mind if I don’t?”

“Nothing to mind. You’ll decide. Only you. Nobody ever does anything to you that you don’t want done.”

Techie exhales slow, then inhales, then grins, and says, “I can tell you what I want done right now.” He leans close and kisses Matt’s nose, then sucks a little on the tip of it – Matt’s got a grand nose, and it is ripe for a little teasing suck on the tip – while his fingers play with Matt’s princely ears. Then he whispers into one ear, “Want you to be my mousehole, baby. Want you to ride me. Want you to watch yourself come on me. Want you to see me all sticky with you.”

And Matt, with a growling groan, is happy to oblige, to do all the things that Techie wants on Techie’s say-so.

And half an hour later, all crystal clear, he watches his own cock spurt all over Techie’s belly, and he can see every hair and freckle on Techie’s beautiful hands as he drags his fingers through the mess and smears it up his chest. He can see every little crinkle of his mouse’s beautiful smile as he sucks Matt’s come off his fingers. And he sees his beloved Mus’s eyes go wide then scrunch shut, his soft lips open, every strand of his lovely red hair falling all around him on the pillow, as he comes.

Matt’s eyes are so filled up with every detail of his darling boy; so filled up with his starlit pale skin, and his comet red hair, and his sunkissed freckles, and his so-blue eyes, and every graceful line of him.

Matt is so filled up with love. He didn't know he could be more full, but he can. Loving Mus makes his heart bigger all the time.

And whatever Techie decides is fine, because whether or not he follows Matt’s lead with the optical surgery, Matt’s glad he’s done this. That he can see his Mus so very clearly like this.

Crystal clear and perfect.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the image I made of Matt's eyes using Enlight.  
> 


End file.
